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Check yourself! Anger and disappointment may arise as you read this essay. The important and relevant question is: “What do you do with the anger and disappointment?”
We kick off this essay with a reconsideration of a January 2019 BlackEconomics.org Commentary entitled “No Longer a Credible Threat.” It is less than one and one-half pages long—please read it!
Also, consider the preface of a 2011 BlackEconomics.org monograph, 53, which states in part:
At the beginning of football or basketball season, ask any young Afro-descendant boy who loves sports who he thinks will win the NFL or NBA championships, and you can be assured that he has a vision. He will not only tell you which teams he expects to win, but also explain why his predictions might not materialize.
This observation extends to young Black American (Afro-descendant) girls and references women’s professional football leagues and the WNBA.
The point is that our youth know a tremendous amount about sports. To make their predictions, they develop insights into which teams and players are credible threats—offensively and defensively—and which are not.
Believe it or not, this focus on sports lies at the heart of “the Black American problem.”
As we are in the midst of the college and professional football seasons and at the outset of the basketball seasons, here’s what we know, without overwhelming you with statistics:
Black American athletes are the lifeblood and core of these sports. While this may seem favorable, it is also troubling because Black Americans are not the primary material beneficiaries of these sports entertainment activities.
In 2022, Division I college and university athletic programs (mainly from football and basketball) earned about $17.5 billion in revenue. The combined revenue for the NFL and the NBA in 2023 was approximately $30 billion. Yet, the pressing question is: What portion of this revenue compensates Black American athletes?
The Bigger Picture
The revenue ratios partially answer this question, but they are just the tip of the iceberg. To dig deeper, we must ask: What portion of the revenue generated by firms and individuals who profit from college and professional sports ends up in Black American hands?
Consider this extensive list of benefactors: construction firms building sports facilities; manufacturers producing sporting equipment, uniforms, and wearables; utility firms powering venues; telecommunications services enabling broadcasts; food vendors; marketing firms; media companies; and transportation services catering to fans and athletes. The list goes on.
In 2023, the Arts, Entertainment, Recreation, Accommodation, and Food Services (AERAFS) industry group contributed $2.4 trillion to the nation’s $48.4 trillion total economic output. Sports entertainment, a major subset of this group, represents a significant economic force.
Yet, we must ask:
- How much of this revenue ends up in Black American pockets?
- Conversely, how much leaves Black American pockets to enrich others?
In 2023, Americans spent an average of 21.5% of their day (about 5.15 hours) on leisure and sports activities. Black Americans devoted an average of 23% of their day (5.51 hours)—7% more than other Americans.
This raises critical questions:
- Are Black Americans spending too much time on leisure and sports?
- Are they reaping enough material benefits from these activities, given their central role in sports?
- Is this consistent with the oft-professed desire to “rise”?
For context, in 2021, just 9% of Black Americans worked in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) fields, compared to 64% of White workers. This disparity underscores an ongoing threat of professional obsolescence tied to Black Americans’ economic and occupational roles.
Would it not be wiser to redirect some energy spent pursuing sports careers toward fields with greater longevity and societal value?
The reality is stark: Black Americans are deeply engaged in activities that, while culturally significant, are economically structured to benefit others. The long-term consequence is clear: Black Americans risk remaining at the bottom of the socioeconomic hierarchy, serving primarily as consumers and low-level producers.
Instead of advocating for radical, immediate transformation, Black Americans are encouraged to adopt systematic, persistent efforts to reverse this trajectory. It’s akin to the mythological frog in a pot of slowly heating water: the choice is clear—find a way out or face a grim, inevitable outcome.
For actionable steps, consider reviewing the Long-Term Strategic Plan for Black America, available at ltspfba.org.
